From A Distance
by womblette
Summary: The Doctor could have been pointing anywhere and she’d have said yes. TenthRose ish. Two parter.


From A Distance  
Part One of Two (Probably).  
**Spoilers:** Post TCI. Nothing beyond that in this part, but there might be in the next.  
**Disclaimer:** Usual – own 'owt.  
**Archive:** Uh, just ask?  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing:** Rose/Ten ish.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in a while, the first in this fandom, and I haven't got a beta – so please, criticism is welcomed. Though, you're allowed to like it if you want!

* * *

"_No, hold on. That way."_

Holding his hand, still that bit warmer than a hand should be, she'd have followed him anywhere. Even though she was enchanted by the not-snow falling from the clear, starry sky above her estate and despite the turkey that was still sitting on the table and the bitterness in Mickey's eyes, the Doctor could have been pointing anywhere and she'd have said yes. He looked down at her again, his face alive with anticipation, and freed her hand to move towards the TARDIS. He didn't need to tell her that they weren't going back to finish dinner, that _'that way'_ wouldn't wait, that he wouldn't wait. Same old life. She turned round to give the same old goodbyes, to find dusty footprints in the ash. She couldn't help but think she should feel more upset than she did, but she could only sigh, emotionally drained. Perhaps it was easier this way.

"You ready then?"

Looking over her shoulder, she found him leaning on the blue doorframe, hands in pockets, face as neutral as ever. There was something in the way he held her gaze that was softer than she remembered, that seemed to suggest that maybe, if she really wanted, he'd step back indoors with her. Give her that night to catch her breath. A departure from the Doctor who couldn't bear the thought of a shepherd's pie when they'd just stepped out from under the rubble of Downing Street. She wasn't sure she needed that anymore. So she smiled.

"Yeah."

_'That way'_ was barely a solar system distant, and whilst new to Rose, it plainly wasn't for the Doctor. There was only the sound of their laughter on what seemed to be a mountainous wonderland, with snow that was cold, wet and very much not the remains of an alien spacecraft. It reminded her of pictures in the photo album her mother had delighted in filling before the death of her husband. Except here the trees crossed the line from green into the realms of blue, and there was no Jackie Tyler in blinding fuchsia skiwear. No anyone, for that matter, and Rose couldn't help but wonder if that was why he'd picked this pocket in space and time where 'when' was not the first question on her lips.

Darkness fell within hours of their arrival, and they lay shoulder to shoulder on a bed of moss that even she knew would be out of place had they been on Earth, but here grew abundant on the snow's surface. Whilst her eyes tracked the heavens, darting from star to star in this sky free from constellation, the Doctor gazed northward, transfixed.

She gave him a small nudge. "What is it?"

"There," he leant a little closer, so that she might see where he was pointing. On the night's canvas lay a point of light, out-sparked by its neighbour, but a little brighter than the rest surrounding it. When he looked back to see her frown, he said, as if it would explain away her confusion, "It's not a star."

Rose blinked at him as he settled back down beside her. "But what is it? A satellite?" His only response was to meet her eyes with a small smirk, and she scrunched up her eyes in realisation. "Right. No population so no satellites. Stupid." She chewed her lip. "Spaceship then?"

"Nearly."

She rolled her eyes at him then and huffed. "This is why I don't play I Spy with you anymore."

The smile she elicited was weary, a sadness in his features that she hadn't yet seen in this face. And she made the connection. "God it's their… it's them, isn't it?"

He was silent for a long time. Rose watched as the breeze blew lightly across his features, taking with some of the glint in his eyes, ruffling his hair to give the only animation to his impassive face. She'd never noticed how little he blinked before. He startled her when he said, suddenly, "Amazing, what death can look like from a distance."

"Did you mean to… I mean… did you want to...?" she trailed off, not knowing how to phrase what she meant.

That smile came back to his face, but he didn't look at her. "I didn't regenerate with psychic abilities, Rose."

"Did you just not change the time dial, or did you mean to - " Lacking the right word, she gestured at the burning Sycorax invasion force, so far distant.

The Doctor frowned at her then, as he so often had when he'd forgotten that she didn't have his science or knowledge of the Universe, and followed as always with explanation. "This solar system is several hundred light-years away from the Earth. Not far on the universal scale, a bit like hopping on a train to Watford when you consider what the TARDIS is capable of. But that's not the point. What happens there doesn't just appear in the night's sky here."

"So you're saying you set the clock for centuries in the future so you could come watch something you'd just seen up close?"

"Well, I happen to like this planet's version of an ice age," he muttered, injecting humour into his voice, but failing to let it into his eyes. She didn't smile back, and he sighed. "Sometimes, I need to see the destruction I've helped create from somewhere I can take it in better."

She started at that, "But you didn't – " The Doctor cut her off with a cool glance. He'd never let her talk away what he considered his failings, just as he had also held her to a higher moral standard. Argument always had been, and she expected always would be, a futile exercise.

They settled into a sombre silence. Time passed, the breeze dropping to such quiet that Rose could have sworn she heard the dull thud of his heartbeats through the moss. After some time, one reached for the other's hand, fingers entwining either for comfort or warmth. As the first of the two moons started to fall, Rose turned to him again.

"Did you ever watch your planet like this?"

His gaze didn't falter, but for a moment his eyes were desolate, to the extent Rose wished she hadn't asked.

"There's nothing to watch. Never was. Never will be."

* * *

_So she asked, half expecting him to point at the light, back towards Earth, "Where're we going next, then?" _

"That way."


End file.
